


Family IV: Ash Wednesday

by BradyGirl_12



Series: Family (DS) [4]
Category: due South
Genre: Catholic, Catholicism, Drama, Established Relationship, Family, Family Drama, Gen, Holidays, Homophobia, M/M, Male Slash, Roman Catholicism, Series, Series: Family, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-03-04
Updated: 2000-03-04
Packaged: 2018-11-10 10:11:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11125008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BradyGirl_12/pseuds/BradyGirl_12
Summary: Flickering candles and the texture of glassine beads...This story is a sequel toFamily III: Imbolc.





	Family IV: Ash Wednesday

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. Original pseudonym: Gilda Lily.
> 
>  **Pairing: Benny/Ray V.**
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>  **Category: Drama**
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>  **Rating: PG**
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>  **This is not a response to the Closet Ash Wednesday Challenge. However,  
> **  
>  as the [FAMILY](http://archiveofourown.org/series/756528) series seems to be picking up holidays as names,  
> this one seemed highly appropriate. 
> 
> **Comments are welcome on-  
> **  
>  or off-list. E-mail:. 
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>  
> 
> **Disclaimer:  
> **  
>  Ashes to ashes/Gnashes to gnashes/I don't own them/Alliance does. Sigh.
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> **(c) February 26, 2000**

*Rosa Vecchio grimaced at the pain in her knees. She was too old to be kneeling all these hours, but it was necessary. 

The hiss of the candles flickering in the alcove next to the altar was the only sound in the neighborhood church. Her fingers were tight around her rosary beads, the strands hanging down and reflecting light in all their ruby glory. She had given Raymondo a ruby set of beads at his Confirmation. 

Why was he doing this to her? 

She knew why. Benton had led him astray. She wasn't sure if the Mountie had been led astray himself. Who knew what went on up in the mysterious, frozen North, with all those Pagan tribes and other odd things? 

What if Benton was truly evil, luring her Raymondo into sin for his own demonic purposes? 

She found it hard to believe. He was so kind and sweet and polite. The first time that Raymondo had brought him home, she had commented on his politeness. Raymondo had answered, "He's Canadian, Ma." To him, that made it all right. 

She murmured her religious ritual and thought of all the times that Benton had shared with her family. He had been a little overwhelmed but had enjoyed his visits to the house. He had always been welcome. His friendship had, at least at first, been a good thing for her Raymondo. Her son had been hurt badly by his father while growing up, through fists and mockery, and had grown cynical. Benton had seemed to bring him back to himself, and made him a better policeman. Or more accurately, helped him back to that good policeman he had been years ago. 

So what had happened to bring about this sin? She probably should have suspected when her son began spending large chunks of time over at the West Racine apartment, hauling his best friend and unofficial partner home for dinner on a frequent basis. And there were the Saturdays and Sundays that he spent over at the Mountie's place, or home with Benton in tow to help with a household project or to wash and wax his beloved car. She had seen the touches on arms and shoulders and the shared looks, and had not _seen_. 

Why had she not seen the signs then? The Canadian was always nervous around her Francesca. Granted, her daughter could be a bit overwhelming in her pursuit of a man, but any redblooded _normal_ man would have been the one pursuing Francesca, not the other way around. 

She shivered and let the rosary beads slide through her fingers as she prayed intensely. Oh, it was all an abomination. The entire neighborhood knew! That wretched nephew of hers, Alberto Lucchesi, had made sure of that. Her Raymondo was not only a laughingstock, but he was in danger. 

Physical danger. Spiritual danger. She shivered again. 

For as much as she feared the physical danger her son was now in, she was terrified of his spiritual danger. He was destined for hell if he kept up this sinful relationship. What was a brief time of pleasure (and she didn't even want to guess as to what that pleasure might be) here on Earth if it meant an eternity in hell? 

Her beloved son. He was good and kind and worth a hundred of the men in the family who did not pay respect to their wives and mothers. The kind of men who ran down to _Fanelli's_ and drank whiskey and played pool while their wives and children ate dinner alone. Her son was respectful and cared about her and his sisters. He was a good boy. 

Who now lived in sin. 

She took a deep breath, the acrid tang of incense tickling her nose. She was so torn! If only she knew if Benton was good and astray or evil incarnate. An uneasy feeling made her suspect the latter. It was if all that politeness was what a demon would think would be 'good'. It seemed far too good to be true! 

The beads slipped through her fingers as she prayed. The muted sounds of traffic outside the church barely registered on her consciousness. She was fighting for her son's soul. 

She was uncertain of her course of action. She did not want to hurt Benton if he was a victim. Until she knew for certain that he was not, she would pray for him, too. She needed a sign. If he was evil, she would go to the Consulate and file a complaint about what he was doing with an American citizen. She would make sure he was sent back to Canada and away from her Raymondo. 

Rosa closed her eyes as she recited the last of the rosary. She would pray for a sign and then her actions would be clear. She kissed the crucifix as she crossed herself, then laboriously rose from the kneeler in the pew. She paused as she was leaving the pew to gaze at the statue of the Virgin Mary as the candles flickered over her alabaster face, then Rosa Vecchio left St. Michael's Church and went out into the sunlight.*


End file.
